


War of the Roses

by coyg_81



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 02:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9694847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyg_81/pseuds/coyg_81
Summary: ONE SHOT!Written as part of a Valentines prompt fest for Strictly Dramione!Prompt: "In the library again Granger?"Back for '8th' year, Blaise and Ginny are fed up of their friends constant arguing and come up with a plan to stop it!





	

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately I do not own anything Harry Potter related!
> 
> Massive thanks to my beta, LaBelladone. She works so hard for me, that I should just call her my co-writer at this point. Much appreciated love x

“In the library again, Granger?”

The voice caught her by surprise, she didn’t realise anybody else was in the library at this time of night. She recognised the voice though. Not him, again! Rolling her eyes skywards, she stood up from her crouched position in front of the lower shelves (Health & Fitness), dusted off her clothes, and turned to face him. He was leaning against one of the other book shelves (Anatomy & Physiology), his legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded against his chest. For Godric’s sake! Did he have to look so hot standing there in his Quidditch uniform? 

“Yes, Malfoy,” she gushed, her face lighting up in mock surprise. “Your observation skills have really improved; I am in the library again.” She turned back to the shelves; it was so hard to look at that face and not salivate. “You know full well that Madam Pince asked me to help her this term, you were there when she asked. So, the question is, Malfoy, what are you doing in here so late?” she asked, trying to focus on the dusty tome at her eye level (A Celebration of Celibacy Throughout the Magical Age by Tryphina Rabbit) . Her eyes decided to ignore her brain, however, and turned back to him. Bloody traitors!

His blond hair was falling around his face, looking as soft as silk. What could it possibly feel like running through -? Shut up, brain! His cool-grey eyes were staring intently at her, and that Quidditch uniform looked far too good on him. It was a good job he was Slytherin; green suited him to perfection (red made her look pasty). His name was printed on both sides of his shirt along with the number seven for his seeker position, giving him a commanding air. She didn’t understand where her fascination with him had come from but she liked to think that his behaviour that fateful day at Malfoy Manor had something to do with it. 

Once she had recovered from her torture, and had time to reflect, Hermione concluded that Draco Malfoy was a good person. He had never wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a Death Eater, he didn’t carry out Voldemort’s order to kill Dumbledore, and he’d helped them out twice at the Manor - first by his lies to his bat-shit-crazy aunt and, second, when Harry had fought him for the wands. Thinking back she realised he hadn’t even put up a fight. He was still, however, the arrogant prick who’d bullied her for years. There wasn’t much improvement except he refrained from using that word now.

Things hadn’t worked out between herself and Ron, Hermione was convinced they were much better off as friends. Ron hadn’t caught up with her way of thinking but that was his fault, not hers. Seamus showed interest in her but - ugh! Don’t want to remember that night! A night in Malfoy's bed wouldn’t be turned down, perhaps she'd show him just how much of a stuck-up prude she was...not. But that was never going to happen. Things had changed between them since the end of the war, even though they still verbally sparred at every opportunity. She had noticed their spats didn't quite carry the malice they once did but, even so, nothing was ever going to happen there. Yes, he was so easy to look at but, to Hermione, he was still that elitist, entitled, spoilt little mummy’s boy who tormented her since she was eleven.

“I was just passing, Granger.” The lie rolled off his tongue as he continued. “I saw the lights on, reckoned Madam Pince had fallen asleep in the stacks again, and came to check.” 

Oh, Draco Malfoy was completely aware that Hermione was helping the scatty old librarian; meeting her in the library was the only chance he had to get her alone. So what if he fancied Gryffindor’s Princess just a bit? Another lie. He wanted her. But did she feel the same? Not a chance! How could she? He was an ex-Death Eater, not to mention he’d bullied her mercilessly for six years. There was no way she thought of him as anything more than an arrogant, pure-blooded prick, so he played his part.

“Yes, well, as you can see, it’s just me so you can bugger off now, Malfoy.” replied Hermione, turning away from him, again, to the large pile of books she was currently cataloging. Most of the library had been destroyed during the final battle and, even though reconstruction works were now complete and the academic books were replaced, there was still piles of older books to reorganise even if they were never read.

“I’m curious, Granger,” he mocked. “Why are you so obsessed with books? Did you have no friends growing up amongst all those disgusting muggles?” That was one way to rile his witch up and, yes, he did think of her as his witch. She just didn’t know it yet. He loved watching her tense up and redden with anger; he needed her angry with him, he had to act this way; it was the only way to protect his heart.

“Merlin, Malfoy, you’re such a wanker. Why can’t you just piss off and leave me alone?” Tears pricked her eyelids but Hermione wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset by his words. She turned away instead and walked towards the doors. If she hid in the girls’ bathroom for a few minutes, she could resume her work once he’d left the library and slithered back to his dorm. He managed another insult, however, as he followed her.

“I hope you don’t kiss your muggle mother with that mouth, Granger.” He laughed, as he strolled out through the double doors, hands in pockets. Hermione leaned against the nearest bookshelf (Teenage Angst/Romance - Ginny’s favourite section) and slid down to the floor. She buried her face in her hands as she cried her heart out. His mentioning of her mother stabbed at her fragile heart; he didn’t know the Ministry couldn’t reverse the memory charm she’d put on her parents. They were lost to her. Once Kingsley had informed her of their failure, she’d agreed to leave Monica and Wendell Wilkins in Australia. Perhaps she could, one day, reverse the spell. She wasn’t called The-Brightest-Witch-Of-Our-Age for nothing.

Sure, she had Harry, Ron (well, sort of at the moment), Ginny, The Weasleys, and her other friends to keep her sane but it wasn’t the same as having her parents there. This was one of the main reasons she’d said yes to helping Madam Pince with the books; she was hoping to find something about memory charms in the old books. She hadn’t found anything to date but she’d keep going. Hermione missed her mother and father terribly. Although she knew where they were, she had decided not to interfere in their lives until a reversal spell could be found. 

She just wished that Malfoy would stop being a wanker to her all the time. Deciding that she’d had enough for one night, Hermione wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands, picked her bag up, and headed out the doors. She would just have to get up earlier in the morning to finish her library project.

 

And, being a true Gryffindor, she did just that. Having spent two hours finishing her work in the library, Hermione met up with Ginny outside their dorm. She sighed loudly as she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. Ginny turned to look at her best friend.

“What’s wrong, Mione? You’re in a funny mood this morning,” the red-haired witch observed.

“It’s nothing, Gin. Just Malfoy being a prick last night, as usual. I had to get up extra early this morning to finish up in the library. I was too upset - .”

“He mentioned your parents, didn’t he?” Ginny interrupted. If there was one thing to put that look on Hermione’s face, it was the mention of her parents. Even she, Harry, and Ron knew not to raise the subject. They’d spoken about it between themselves but there wasn’t much they could do to help, apart from be there when she got angry about it. That didn’t happen often, however. Thank Merlin, she thought. Her friend certainly had a temper on her, especially when it came to a certain blond-haired Slytherin twat. Ginny had to deal with him quite a lot, seeing as she was dating Blaise Zabini, and the two of them were close. Normally she could just ignore the idiot but lately his arguments with Hermione were getting out of control. 

They only had to be in each other’s company for a few minutes before they verbally went for each other, throwing insults and hexes. Hermione certainly wasn’t letting Draco get away with his usual behavior towards her this year; she’d been hardened from the war. Harry and Ron weren’t hanging out of her anymore - they didn’t need her so much, but there was also the situation with her parents, and the aftermath of her prolonged torture. Enter a new, maybe not-so-improved but certainly take-no-shit, Hermione Jean Granger. Ginny also noticed that Hermione’s language had changed; she cursed more, especially when complaining about the ferret.

“I’m so sorry, Mione. Do you want me to speak to Blaise? Maybe he can get Malfoy to back off a bit,” asked Ginny. She didn’t like seeing her best friend upset.

“No Gin, it’s fine. To be fair, he doesn’t know about the situation with my mum and dad. He was just trying to get a rise out of me as bloody usual,” she replied, smiling back. “I shouldn’t let the pointy-faced ferret get to me.”

Turning the corner, however, they came face-to-face with said pointy-faced ferret. Blaise was standing next to him and Ginny walked straight into his open arms. Kissing her lightly on the lips, he wished her good morning. They both turned their heads towards the pair who were now glaring at each other. “Here we go again,” Blaise whispered into Ginny’s ear. Rolling her eyes, Ginny gave a slight nod just as Malfoy opened his mouth.

“Weaselette, Granger, good morning,” Draco began, staring at Hermione, “Sweet Salazar, Granger, what the fuck is wrong with your hair? Did a bunch of Irish pixies break into your room and have a party on your head last night?” He smirked at her, clearly pleased with his first dig of the day. 

“Is that the best you can come up with, ferret?” Hermione responded, rolling her eyes at him and sighing. She so wasn’t in the mood for him this morning, not after last night. 

“I don’t know, Granger. Let me grab a coffee then I’m sure I’ll come up with something better.” 

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Ginny moaned into Blaise’s ear.

“Tell me about it.” Her boyfriend grumbled. “Every time they see each other it’s like this. What are we going to do about it? I’ve no intention of ever letting you go, Gin, so the pair of them are going to have to learn to get along with each other.”

Ginny smiled at his statement; she felt the same way. Leaning up to him so the others wouldn’t hear, she whispered, “Leave it with me, I’ll sort it out. Where’s Theo right now?”

“Erm, think he said he was going straight to the library before lessons,” Blaise answered.

“Ok, I need to speak to him. I’ll see you in potions later and tell you what I’ve come up with,” she said, moving away from him. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and turned to the continuing tennis-match insults. “I’ll try to referee this then. Good luck, love.”

“Hermione,” Ginny called over to Player One. “I’ve got to run; just remembered, I need to take a book back to the library.” Only a little lie. She was going to the library; to see Theo Nott. 

Hermione turned away from Player Two, having told him where he could shove his Irish pixies. “Ok, I’ll meet you later in charms,” she replied. 

Ginny walked off, looking forward to having peace reign within the castle’s walls once more. 

“Draco, mate, let’s go and get breakfast,” Blaise suggested.

“Yeah, alright. Anything’s better than standing here with Granger giving me the death stare. Her anger is making that hair even more wild,” Draco laughed, whilst walking off towards the Great Hall. Hermione almost growled at him in response. He’s not worth it. He’s not worth it. He’s not worth it, she kept repeating over and over like a mantra. She took a deep breath and turned to make her way to Charms. She’d had enough of Drac0-fucking-Malfoy, and the thought of him glaring at her during breakfast put her right off food. She’d wait outside the classroom instead.

 

Later that day, the girls made their way to the dungeons for Potions class. Unfortunately for Hermione, Slughorn had paired her with the ferret for the rest of the year and he was just as unbearable here as he was anywhere else. Ginny took her place next to Blaise, with a sly smile playing across her face as she began whispering in his ear. 

Malfoy was already seated as Hermione made her way over to him. She sighed as she looked down at him sitting - no, reclining, there. Arrogant prick. He was leaning back in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Both hands were behind his head and he was observing her, smirking as usual. Placing her bag on the floor, and sliding into her seat, Hermione kept her gaze forward.

“Not like you to be late, Granger. What kept you? Still fighting those pixies? Because your hair looks worse than ever,” he sneered. Hermione kept repeating her mantra from earlier on. Why did he always manage to raise the fiercest emotions in her? Always anger and frustration; it made her heart race. Just as he was about to continue, the class was called to attention by the arrival of Professor Slughorn and Draco fought the urge to throw another dig at her. For now. 

They were both packing up their bags at the end of the lesson when Draco noticed Blaise and Ginny walking towards them from the other side of the classroom. 

“Hermione, Draco,” Ginny began, getting Hermione’s attention. They both looked up. 

“What?” Draco asked impatiently. He was in a bad mood as Hermione had basically bossed him about whilst making their anti-wrinkle potion. Anti-wrinkle? I mean, really? How vain are witches these days? He thought, running his fingers through his hair. 

“What's got your wand in a knot?” Ginny enquired. 

“Nothing much. Just Granger giving me her holier-than-thou speech about how I wasn't cutting the flobberworms correctly, or how I hadn't stirred the potion the correct way, or-”

“Oh shut up, Malfoy,” Hermione interrupted him, “the instructions clearly stated that-” 

“ENOUGH!” Ginny and Blaise shouted in unison. Hermione and Draco both turned in surprise.

“Enough, ok?” Ginny sighed, shaking her head. “We've had enough, Blaise and I,” she continued, waving her finger between herself and her boyfriend. “Hermione, you're my best friend and Draco is Blaise’s best friend and, seeing as we’re dating, you two are going to have to come to some sort of arrangement to get along better. The constant arguing is doing our heads in!” 

Immediately, Hermione looked guilty. Draco, however, stood there with that arrogant Malfoy sneer on his face. Hermione wished he wouldn't do that; it wasn't a nice look. She said so.

“We’re going to lunch and you two aren’t invited. Why don’t you both try to sort your shit out, yeah?” Ginny demanded. With that, she grabbed Blaise’s hand and stormed out. 

“Classy,” he sighed, “now our friends hate us. Why can’t you keep that big mouth shut?”

“Me? You spineless twat. It was you that got Ginny in a huff, moaning as usual about me. Why can’t YOU keep YOUR big mouth shut? I’m sick of your fucking voice!” Hermione seethed.

“Oh, sod off, you bushy-haired know-it-all. Thanks to you I’m going to have to eat lunch on my own,” he whined, like a little boy who wasn’t getting his own way.

“What a shame! Poor little Dwaco’s going to have to sit on his own, with no friends. Well, boo-bloody-hoo, Malfoy.” Grabbing her bag, she pushed past him. 

“Oh no you don’t, Granger. We’re not finished here,” he stated, directly behind her. 

Draco followed Hermione all the way to the Great Hall, still ranting about how it wasn’t fair that Blaise and Ginny had had enough of them when it was all her fault. According to him, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Hermione rolled her eyes. Seriously, her eyes were going to get stuck looking up one day! As she entered the hall for lunch, she spotted Ginny sitting at the Slytherin table with Blaise (one of McGonagall’s better ideas for promoting house unity). Ginny raised her eyebrows, silently asking Hermione if she was ok, as it looked like Malfoy was not letting up by the way he was gesticulating beside her. Hermione nodded her head slightly to let her friend know she was alright, just about. She made her way towards the Gryffindor table, safe in the knowledge that Malfoy definitely wouldn’t follow her there. Telling him to go fuck himself, she walked away. Sitting down, she began to eat her lunch.

Ginny was livid. “That’s it,” she spat, “Get Malfoy to the Three Broomsticks at seven-thirty tonight, Blaise. We’re going to sort this out once and for all.”

Blaise looked amused, “Should I even ask why?”

“No,” came the reply, “You’ll see tonight, won’t you?”

Blaise pulled Ginny into his side and kissed her temple, “You’re scary when you’re angry, love,” he shivered slightly, “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Just keep doing what you do to me in the bedroom, Blaise, and you’ll never need to see my temper,” she retorted, winking at him. Blaise breathed a sigh of relief and laughed to himself; he’d never see her fiery side so. 

Just then Malfoy plopped down on the bench opposite him. Before he could open his mouth, Blaise raised a hand to silence him. 

“Draco, mate, please don’t start on about Hermione. Why don’t we go for a drink at the Broomsticks tonight? Just me and you. You can vent all you want then. Sound good, yeah?” he asked hopefully. If Gin had some plan in mind to sort these two out, he’d do his damnedest to get Draco to Hogsmeade tonight.

Sighing, Draco replied, “I suppose we could. School’s kicking my arse and, obviously, this shit with Granger. Yeah, alright, Blaise. I could do with getting drunk tonight.”

Ginny smiled slyly at Blaise. One down, one to go, and no time like the present. Giving Blaise a kiss, she stood up and made her way over to her friend. Hermione had her nose in a book and her fork halfway to her mouth. She must've been enjoying that book as the fork had stopped midair, her concentration on the words in front of her. Ginny gave a small incredulous laugh at Gryffindor’s bookworm, shaking her head slightly. She cleared her throat in the hope Hermione might see that she'd sat down. Nothing. Nose still stuck in her book. 

“Err, Hermione?” Ginny called. 

Hermione looked up. “Hey Gin. Sorry, I didn't see you there. Did you know that-”

“No. No. I don't know, Mione, but just hold that thought for a sec,” Ginny said, before Hermione could relay the probably useless fact she'd just read. She had a habit of doing that - reading some random tidbit, researching it thoroughly again, and then trying to explain it, in detail, to Ginny. The youngest Weasley admired her friend for her determination to learn but there was only so much of Hermione’s vast knowledge one could take.

“I've decided that you've been under a bit of pressure lately, Hermione, so I suggest dinner in Hogsmeade tonight with a couple of glasses of wine at the Broomsticks to finish. What say you?” 

Hermione raised her eyebrows a fraction, a suspicious look on her face. Ginny never asked her to dinner and drinks. Normally it would involve a long, boring shopping trip topped off with Blackstone’s Cheesecake and Americano at Madame Puddifoot’s. “Why dinner and drinks?” she enquired, suspiciously.

“I just thought we could do something different for a change and, to be honest, I could really use a glass of wine,” Ginny replied, silently praying to Circe that Hermione would agree. She needed both Hermione and Draco together at the Broomsticks later so she could put her devious plan into action. 

Hermione sighed, resigned to the idea. She knew Ginny wouldn't give up until she got her way. She supposed being the youngest Weasley, and the only girl, meant she was used to getting her own way. Hermione really didn't feel like a trip to Hogsmeade; her night was planned to include a long bath and a Potions essay. Now that wasn't going to happen. Maybe they could grab a quick dinner, stop for one glass of wine...maybe. She'd only be out for a couple of hours. 

“Ok Gin. Yeah, we can go out tonight, if you want.”

“Brilliant! I'll meet you in the common room at six ok?”

“Yeah, that's fine. I'll catch you later,” Hermione agreed, packing her book away before standing up. “I'm off to the library before double Arithmancy.” 

She gave her friend a little wave as she wandered out of the hall. Ginny looked over at Blaise, who was trying to gauge if it was a go or not. She indicated with a sly thumbs up, standing herself. She blew a kiss to her boyfriend and also exited the Hall. “Excellent,” she sang to herself, clapping her hands together. “They’ll be reasonable and polite to each other before the end of the day.”

Ginny met Hermione, as arranged, at six and they strolled into Hogsmeade. They enjoyed a lazy dinner together at The Bloodied Snitch before making their way across the street to the Three Broomsticks. Once inside, Ginny instantly spotted Draco’s trademark hair. He was sitting in a booth towards the back of the pub alongside Blaise and Theo. The latter had a Butterbeer each whilst the Malfoy heir looked to be nursing a Firewhiskey. Hermione hadn't noticed them, having headed straight for the bar. She ordered a Merlot for herself and a Pinot Gris for Ginny. Once the drinks had been poured and paid for, she turned to hand over the large glass to her friend. Hermione then spotted the three Slytherins staring back at them. Hermione sighed. She’d had a feeling all day that Ginny was up to something. 

“For Merlin's sake, Gin! Did you know they'd be here?” She moaned, resigned to the fact she’d have to spend some time at their table. She took a large gulp of wine. 

“Come on, Hermione,” Ginny encouraged, “Blaise is my boyfriend and you're going to have to try and get along with Malfoy. She then linked her arm through Hermione’s and started to weave her way through the tables. As they approached, all three boys stood to greet them. Theo moved to the top of the oblong table, paperwork set out in front of him. 

“What's going on here?” Hermione asked, clearly thinking this was a set-up. Ginny moved around the table to Blaise, who was standing with his arms folded across his chest. Draco had sat back down at the table, Firewhiskey in hand, also waiting for an explanation. 

“Arrogance personified,” Hermione mumbled. 

“What was that, Granger?” Draco asked, sipping his drink. 

“Nothing, Malfoy. I didn't say anything.”

“Ok, ok,” Blaise started, raising his hands in surrender, “enough! We have bought you both here for a reason. We've watched the Malfoy/Granger wars firsthand for seven, almost eight years now, and we've had enough.” He indicated to Ginny and himself, before continuing. “Theo is here because, as you know, he's going to train as a lawyer once he’s finished at Hogwarts. He’s almost as interested in reading as Hermione, although all he reads are law books. We want you both to agree to a peace treaty,” he finished, looking from Draco to Hermione. “Take a seat here, Hermione, next to Ginny so we can thrash this deal out.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow at Blaise but began to move around the table towards her friend. Blaise walked the opposite way and sat down next to Draco, who didn't look remotely impressed by this turn of events. 

Clearing his throat and facing the two adversaries, Theo began. “Your friends are completely fed up with the constant arguing, bitching, and fighting between the two of you. They’ve asked me to draw up a legal document that will call a truce between you both. You do realise how hard it is for both Blaise and Ginny right? Seeing their best friends like this all the time?”

“You’re my friend, Nott,” Draco growled.

“Not right now, I’m not. I’m here to find a way out of this situation,” Theo stated firmly. He knew just how stubborn both of them could be. He wasn’t expecting this to work but, to be fair, he found he was distancing himself from both parties as a result of their behaviour. He had more important things to worry about, like passing his NEWTs, and being accepted into the MLE Lawyer Training Programme this summer. This was going to be good practice.

Sighing, and running his hand through his blond locks, Draco spoke, “Fair enough, Theo, I’ll play along. It’s getting pretty boring anyway, arguing with Granger, when all she can do is spout the same old lines at me - Death Eater, ferret, pointy-faced bastard, aristocratic pureblood prick. Do you see where I’m coming from?” 

“Draco, would you just keep that big gob shut for a minute? Please,” Theo added, whilst shuffling some paperwork around.

Ginny and Blaise gave each other a please-let-this-work look across the table.

“Before we start,” Ginny spoke up. “I would just like to say that, if either one of you breaks this treaty, you’ll be ex-communicated. You’ll no longer be our friend. Is that understood?” They needed to know that she and Blaise were serious. Draco and Hermione both replied that they understood, albeit sheepishly.

 

Four hours later (The Three Broomsticks)

“If you give me the Three Broomsticks on a Friday and Saturday night, you can have the library all to yourself every weekend,” Draco suggested. They’d been here four hours now, dividing up assets and territory as if they were divorcing. Theo was ecstatic! This was great practice!

“Fine, I concede the Broomsticks,” Hermione answered him. She’d already given him sole custody of the Quidditch pitch, even when Gryffindor were playing, and the Great Hall at lunchtimes. Breakfast was hers, and they agreed to ignore each other when they were both in there at dinnertime. In classes, it was decided, they would just have to ignore each other again, except for Potions as they were paired together. They consented to avoid hexing each other, unless provoked. Hermione insisted on the last part.

“Well, I think that just about covers everything,” Theo smiled over at Hermione. “I need you both to sign here, here, and here, and I’ll make a copy.” He handed the document to Hermione first and she signed her name in the places indicated by Theo, her neat handwriting clashing with his rushed scrawl. Draco took his time, checking the document thoroughly, before adding his signature with a flourish. Prick, Hermione thought, before correcting herself. Once Draco handed the document back, Theo waved his wand over the parchment and another two copies appeared. He passed a copy to each of them and kept one for himself. 

As they all stood to leave, Theo added, “Just so you know, the treaty has been magically sealed. If either of you breaks the terms agreed, I’ll be notified, and won’t hesitate in letting Ginny and Blaise know immediately.” He sauntered out of the pub. 

“Well, we should be getting back to the school. I know we don’t really have a curfew anymore but McGonagall wants us to set a good impression, and strolling in at midnight won’t look very good for any of us,” said Hermione, picking up her paperwork. At that moment, she managed to catch Draco’s eye. He was about to comment about her being McGonagall’s bitch but thought better of it. He didn’t want to lose Blaise’s friendship and, if he was being honest, Weaslette as well. He’d found he rather liked the girl’s company; she was witty, fierce, stubborn, loyal, and, Merlin, she could give him a run for his Galleons on the Quidditch pitch too.

“Let’s go, Blaise, before I say something I regret,” he sneered in Hermione’s direction.

“Yep, still a prick,” she thought.

A week later, Ginny Weasley felt relaxed and peaceful for a change. She was thinking about how good things had been recently; there hadn’t been a crossed word between Draco and Hermione since their treaty was signed. If they were all hanging out together, the pair just ignored each other. So much better, she concluded, we should've had this drawn up months ago.

Later on, Hermione was sitting in her own private little corner of the library, looking through another memory charm book, when she heard a disturbance coming from the other side of the room. God-fucking-damn-it! Malfoy! The library was supposed to be hers at the weekend. It was Friday night, why wasn't he out getting drunk and trying to pick up random witches in Hogsmeade? She really hadn't cared about giving him the wizarding village at the weekends, it's not like she ever went out drinking anyway. She'd done rather well out of that stupid agreement. Right now though, it sounded like he was having a go at another student when he wasn't even supposed to be in the bloody castle! Rising from her table and walking towards the commotion, she sighed, reminding herself not to break the treaty before he did. 

Walking between one of the aisles, Hermione peeked around the corner to see what was happening. She saw Malfoy, goading a first-year Hufflepuff boy who was crying. It looked like the boy had tripped and spilt his drink all over the front of Malfoy’s robes. Why he was shouting at the boy about it was beyond her; he was a wizard, for Merlin’s sake. One quick spell would clean his robes. Ok, the boy shouldn’t have any kind of beverage in the library but Malfoy didn’t need to berate him like this. 

“Malfoy, what the hell are you doing?” she demanded.

“What’s it got to do with you, Granger?” he spat back at her, without looking in her direction. 

“Well, first, you shouldn’t even be in here and, second, why are you shouting at this poor boy when there’s no reason to? Just cast a Scourgify and move on, dipshit.”

Draco spun around. “What did you just call me?” he spat, a look of venom on his face.

“I called you a dipshit, because only a dipshit would act this way. Do you enjoy making first-year students cry?”

“Piss off, Granger. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Actually it does, ferret-boy. When Madam Pince isn’t here, I’m in charge, as you well know. Also, it’s Friday night and you shouldn’t be here,” she hissed, “You’re violating the terms of our treaty.” She moved around him and bent down to the little first-year. “What’s your name, sweetie?” she smiled, reaching out a hand to push his hair from his face.

“My name is Miles Thompson, Miss Granger,” the little dark-haired boy replied. He lifted his face towards Hermione, tear tracks on his cheeks.

“There’s no need to cry, Miles. Why don’t you go back to your common room with your friends and let me deal with Mr Malfoy, okay?” she encouraged. Her heart went out to him, Hermione knew firsthand what it was like to be on the receiving end of Draco Malfoy’s cruelty. 

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” Miles sniffed. He looked over at Draco, “I’m very sorry for tripping and spilling my drink on you, Mr Malfoy, sir,” he managed to choke out. He had a look of fear upon his little face when addressing the blond wizard in front of him. Malfoy just glared back. The young Hufflepuff and his two friends picked up their bags and started heading towards the door.

“Oh, by the way, Miles?” Hermione called after him, “No food or drinks are allowed in the library, okay?”

He looked back at her with a small smile on his face, “Yes, Miss Granger. It won’t happen again.” Catching Malfoy’s furious glare, Miles and his friends made a quick dash for the exit.

Spinning to face Malfoy once again, Hermione ranted, “Do you have no shame at all, Malfoy? What possessed you to speak to a first-year like that? It was an accident, you pillock! You’re supposed to be an example to people younger than you. All you’ve done is show these first-years exactly why you have the reputation you do. You disgust me.” She pointed towards the doors. “Now get the hell out of my library, especially when you’re not supposed to be in here. And,” she added with a smirk, “if you utter one word of bile to me, you’ll break the terms of the treaty.” Round one, Hermione Granger.

He didn’t move. “You know what, Granger? I don’t really give a shit about the treaty. Do you really think that Blaise is going to stop speaking to me if I break the terms? The only reason I’m in here is to find you; I’m being a bastard and picking on first-years because I don’t have you to argue with anymore.” 

Draco could feel a white hot heat racing through his core as her chestnut eyes bore holes in him. The past week had been a nightmare; he enjoyed the lively interactions with his gorgeous witch. She was livid; her cheeks glowed with fire, giving her an indestructible look. Her hands were folded across her chest, just underneath her breasts, accentuating her rack. Merlin, he wanted her so badly. It killed him knowing she would rather Avada herself than touch him.

“I don’t care, Malfoy. I’ve actually been enjoying the peace since we signed the treaty. I’ve never felt more relaxed, knowing you aren’t hiding round corners ready to have a go at me. The way you just treated that poor kid was despicable, even for you.”

“Oh, shove it up your arse! What I do, where I go, or how I act has nothing to do with you. Just piss off.” He could feel himself getting so angry; the thought of not talking to her, or seeing her everyday, it was driving him mad. School would be over in a few months, forever. If Blaise and Weaselette made it last, then he’d only ever see her in their company. Or at functions with Scarhead and Weaselbee. Whoop-de-fucking-do!

“Just get out, Malfoy. Get out of my fucking library right now. I can’t stand listening to you anymore!” she shrieked at him.

“I’m leaving anyway,” he screamed back at her, before stomping out the library towards the dungeon. I’ll fucking show her, he thought, as he spat out the Slytherin password. He headed straight for his dorm and started rummaging through his trunk for that stupid fucking treaty. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he was about to walk back through the common room when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, Blaise stood facing him.

“What are you up to, Draco? And why do you look like you're about to murder someone?” Blaise looked genuinely concerned for his friend. Draco quickly slipped the treaty behind his back before Blaise could notice it.

“Some stupid first-year Hufflepuff spilled his drink all over me. I just come back to change my robes,” he partly lied, “I just got angry about it and shouted at him.”

“You’ve been impossible this last week, mate. You’re walking around like a bear with a sore head, so what gives?” Blaise asked gently, before adding, “I hope this has nothing to do with Granger.” He didn’t think he’d be able to cut Draco from his life completely but, if the animosity between his best friend, and Ginny’s, raised it’s ugly head again, he’d definitely cut him off for a good long while. “Hopefully it won’t come to that,” he silently prayed. “Please Merlin, let him be just pissed about his robes.”

“I’m fine, Blaise, really. I’m just stressed with the amount of homework they’ve swamped us with, and bloody Quidditch being cancelled,” Draco smirked. There was no way he was going to tell Blaise the truth; no one knew what he felt for Granger. He wanted it to stay that way, it was too - it was impossible.

“Alright,” Blaise conceded, “why don’t we sit in the common room and have some Firewhiskey, yeah? I feel like I haven’t spent any time with you lately.”

“Awww, Blaisey, are you missing me?”Draco laughed at his best friend.

“Fuck off, Malfoy. Just come and have a drink with me while I wait for Ginny to get here.” Blaise replied, leading the way back up to the common room.

 

Three hours later (The Library)

Hermione sighed as she lowered another heavy tome onto the table, not even bothering to read its title. She was so fed up; the altercation with Malfoy had unsettled her, again, and she couldn’t stop thinking about her parents. Deciding to call it a night, she packed up her belongings and headed towards the exit. Turning the corner, she was shocked to see Malfoy standing in front of the door.

“What are you still doing here, Malfoy? I threw you out hours ago.” Please make him go away.

“The treaty is over.” he snapped at her, moving a step closer. 

Her heart was racing as she replied, “Fine with me, this pretense at civility is exhausting.”

“Being amicable isn’t in our blood, Granger. We’re not friends. Friends have to like each other. I could never like you.” he carried on, still moving closer to her.

“I could never like you either. In fact, I hate you.” she sneered back. The air seemed to crackle with electricity between them both; she could feel the hairs standing up on the back of her neck and her palms were getting clammy.

“I’ve never hated anyone more.”

“Every nerve in my body is electrified by hatred for you.” That was a lie; she knew she didn’t hate him. She hated the fact he wouldn’t take the time to get to know her, to see the real Hermione Granger. She’d give anything for that, she realised suddenly. 

“The fiery pit of hate burning inside me is ready to explode,” he countered, stepping into her personal space.

“So it’s settled then?”

“We’re settled.” he finished, tearing up his contract in front of her.

Hermione gasped at the sound of the parchment ripping. She looked up to find him staring intently at her. Suddenly, he threw the torn paperwork down and reached out to her. His fingers grasped the back of her neck and he pulled her into him. Before she had a chance to protest, his lips crashed down onto hers. Oh, sweet Merlin’s balls, she tasted exquisite. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, begging for entry. Would she push him away? He was terrified in that instant, and beyond relieved when she slowly opened her mouth. Passions flared quickly as their tongues caressed. He pulled her closer as she reached up to run her fingers through his soft hair, tugging on it gently. He moaned into her mouth, never wanting to break the contact of her soft lips on his.

 

There was a private study room that few people knew about situated at the back corner of the library and Hermione began to drag Draco in that direction, her lips never leaving his. He allowed himself be guided backwards, holding onto her hips. Once she’d shut the door behind them with her foot, Draco broke the kiss, gasping for air. His heart was racing. “Granger - I - are you sure about -?” Please Merlin, please let her want this!

“I want this.” Hermione commanded, spelling the lock before kissing him fiercely. They fell together in front of the fire and got lost in each other for the next few hours. 

They finally fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, in front of the dying embers. Hermione had transfigured her school robes into a large green blanket that lay across their naked bodies.

 

The next morning (The Library’s private study room)

Opening her eyes slowly, she looked straight into the cool grey eyes of the man she - oh, wow!

“Morning, Granger,” he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips gently against her cheek. His arms were still around her, holding her close.

She blushed as flashes tore through her mind; they had been attentive and very considerate towards each other for most of the night as they endeavoured to ‘get to know each other better’. What would happen now? She panicked. As Hermione tried to prise herself away from his arms, he held her tightly to him.

“Not so fast, Hermione,” he drawled huskily. 

She froze. 

He'd never used her first name before, not even last night. Her eyes widened as she looked up, back to his beautiful eyes. 

“What?” A whisper, Hermione could hardly speak. She was so sure he was going to tell her that last night had been a mistake and not to tell anyone about it. 

“Just one question,” he continued, “a simple yes or no answer so it should be easy for you.” He grinned but she had no idea just how scared he was in that moment. What if she thought last night was a mistake and they were never to speak about it again?

Taking a deep breath, Draco continued, “Well, now you know how I really feel about you, how I’ve felt about you for a very long time...Hermione.” He said it again, it sounded wonderful.  
“S0...will you be my witch?” 

He cringed inwardly. Merlin, that sounded cheesy! Well, it was out now; there was no going back. Draco anxiously studied the different emotions as they played across her face - shock, disbelief, incredulity - did she just smirk? 

“But you hate me, Malfoy, and I hate you. Surely, what happened last night was just years of tension building up until we either fucked like rabbits or killed each other,” she sighed, “do you even fancy me?” Please, please, please...

“Yes,” he replied, without hesitation. 

“Wh - what?”

“I said yes. Yes, I do fancy you, more than fancy you, you crazy witch,” he responded. He untied his arms from her waist and sat up, pulling her up with him. She covered her breasts with the blanket as she turned to face him. Green looks fucking hot on her, he noted before he spoke.

“Just be quiet and hear me out for a second, would you please? I know it'll be hard for you but please, let me finish,” he asked her in a slightly mocking, teasing tone. Hermione waved a hand in front of her for him to continue as her other hand imitating pulling a zip across her mouth. The blanket slipped slightly.

Hermione placed both of her hands back in his and waited for him to speak again. Draco took a deep breath.

“Ok, well...since we signed that stupid treaty, I had to find other things to consider - apart from how to get a rise out of you and initiate an argument every time I saw you. I found that I'd been thinking about you so much that I didn't really have anything else going on up here,” he said, taking his hand and tapping it against his head. “There’s only so much school work I can, or want to, agonize over so it got me thinking. It was you in my head, even it was only to figure out new ways to outsmart and humiliate you.” He looked at her sheepishly. “It was only you.”

He continued quickly, before she could reply. “Do you know what conclusion I came to? It's because I do fancy you.” There was a lot more to it, but it was too soon. “Don't get me wrong; you irritate the shit out of me with your bossy attitude, your know-it all-ways, that hair, the mangy orange thing you call a cat, not to mention your absolute stubbornness and refusal to back down. Plus the fact that you've always got to be right but, besides all that Hermione, I've also realised that you're beautiful - in an alluring, gracious, old-school kind of beauty; it makes me wonder why I haven't noticed it before. It was always there, hiding behind that nest you call hair and those buck teeth you had when we were younger.” She huffed at him and narrowed her eyes. As romantic conversations go...

“Don't panic, there’s a point to all this,” he laughed, “I also realised, that apart from your beauty, you’re intelligent beyond words, you're loyal, you have a wicked sense of humour, and you're just someone I - I want to be with.” 

Hermione’s heart was hammering inside her chest, listening to him. All this time, she’d admired him, wanted him, prayed for him to notice her - he felt the same! All this time! She found herself a little disappointed that they had wasted so much time but, here he was, saying everything she had yearned to hear.

“Yes, Draco,” she drawled, moving her hands up to cup his face. “I’ll be your witch, I’ve wanted so badly to be your witch.” She beamed up at him and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He pressed his lips gently to her, smiling after a moment. “Can’t wait to see their faces when we tell Blaise and Ginny.” Hermione laughed; Ginny was going to kill them both.

“By the way, Hermione? Happy Valentine’s Day,” he announced, noticing the calendar on the wall behind her head. Ironic or what?

“And to you, Draco,” she replied, coyly. “Would you like your present now?”

“Definitely,” he answered, pulling them both back down on the rug together.


End file.
